Voices

• Jasleen Malhotra, Grade 9, Canberra High School -
• Short Story
• 2018

Excellence Award in the 'Horizon of Dreams 2018' competition

The rain pours down upon me endlessly, it feels, it feels like… I don’t know. I feel numb, I’ve been out here too long, I don’t remember anymore. People say the rain is supposed to feel cold. Is it? I can’t tell. They say it’s supposed to be miserable. Is it? I can’t tell. People say the rain is supposed to be, people say, people say. People say too many things, they say how something is supposed to be. But is it really?

Endlessly. The word seems so empty. Endlessly: it may end, it may have already ended, maybe I just don’t know. The world seems empty too. I am here, there are so many other people in this world. So many of them are probably looking up at the same sky as I am, so many of them are probably standing in the rain feeling numb like me, or maybe not. I stand in a crowd yet I feel so alone. Am I supposed to?

There was a time when I heard voices calling out to me, but slowly, ever so slowly those voices faded away. I don’t know if they are still here today, but even if they are, I can’t hear them. I don’t know if I should feel relieved that I don’t have to listen to their words, or if I should feel lonely and try to find them. I don’t know.

The voices, some of them were nice, they said that I was a good person, but they were also liars, because I’m not a good person. Some of them were mean, they said that I wasn’t good enough, they were honest. Some of them were friendly, they said I should stay the way I am, but they were wrong. Some of them were annoying, they said that I should try to change and be someone that wasn’t me, but they were right.

People, they have voices and they misuse them, they say too many things, they lie and they burn and they hurt. And, and there is no turning back, there is no taking back what has been said. I won’t deny it though, once you stop hearing those words, you crave them. You want to hear them more than anything.

It’s just like the rain. When the rain comes and doesn’t stop, you think,”When will the rain stop?” or “I just want it to go away,” but in the middle of a drought, you crave the rain and think “When will the rain come?” or “I just want it to rain.”

I guess, I really do miss those voices. I may be too far-off to hear them again, but at least I have something similar, the rain. And if I listen closely I can hear the voice of the rain, I can’t understand the words being said, but I can hear its voice. So I stand. Here where the rain pours down upon me endlessly.